Ascension: a Short Spore Epic
by Onlinescholarproductions
Summary: The final chapter is up! Follow the story of the Leko, planet Kell, and the epic that is life itself. Rated T for minor language and moderate violence involving nuclear blasts, headshots, and exploding ships. Rating may change in the future. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction:**

I have decided to make what I consider to be an epic novel (maybe that's stretching it a bit) about one of my favorite games of all time: Spore. For those who don't know, Spore is a video game that simulates evolution-you start out on a planet of your choosing and evolve from a single-celled organism into a sentient, space-faring species. After looking through the novels here on the site, I decided that while most were well-written, they were far too short and narrow-minded, especially for a game like Spore. So I'll take a crack at it. Behold the story of the Leko, an intelligent race of my design that goes on to shape the universe. Each chapter will get longer and delve into greater detail respective to the complexity of each stage in the game: cell, creature, tribal, civilization, and space. Good reading to you. And, of course, be sure to R&R.

**I do not own Spore or any content within Spore that was made by Maxis or EA games.**

*******************

"_First there was darkness. And then, BANG."-_The Universe (History Channel)

There once was a place called the universe. In this universe, there are billions of galaxies. In these galaxies, there are billions of stars. Orbiting one of these stars, in one of these galaxies, was planet Kell. Planet Kell was fresh out of the proto-planetary disk, ready to take on the universe. So was its home star, Chen, as were the 2 balls of rock and the large, ringed ball-o-gas clinging to its orbit. Everything in the system seemed so peaceful…from the outside. The surface of Kell was a barren volcanic waste. The average temperature was 115 degrees planet wide. Nothing could hope to live there, especially considering the remarkably low level of water on the planet.

Not without a bit of outside help, anyway.

Hundreds of thousands of miles away was a cosmic seed. A rogue ball of carbon and ice that was exiled during the solar system's early days. You would know it as a comet. And it had a target.

Hurtling though space, with a trail of icy dust blowing through its wake, the comet barely misses an impact with Chen, skirting a roasting blast from a solar flare. Kell stood out against the cosmic blackness.

The comet was sucked towards the planet. It started to wobble as the gravitational pull of Kell started to rip it apart. A large chunk of the icy rock broke off and hurtled into the atmosphere, blowing a shockwave into the terrestrial waste. The main body of the comet, containing a large shard of carbon-laced water ice, screamed into the atmosphere with meteoric force. It went planet side, disappearing beneath the charred horizon. Then there was a bang. A very, very loud bang. Shards of ice and carbon pelted one of the oases of precious native water. And out of the tiniest of these shards emerged something unique. Something that the great space known as the galaxy had not yet experienced.

Out came a piece of carbon.

No, it's not the carbon that's special; it's what the carbon makes. It's the one thing missing on this waste of a planet to make life.

Within seconds of impact, the carbon bonded with nearby chemicals and water. Soon enough, the first DNA molecule was created. And then, jumpstarted by the energy of the meteor, it started to self-replicate. Life had arrived on planet Kell.

********

The little cell scurried about. It had such a simple life, yet so many things to do, what with the threat of getting eaten and everything. It was the shape of a rod, with a flagellum adorning its rear, and a filter mouth attached in the front. What could pass for eyes served as its main form of sensing the outside.

It swam against the battering force of the flow, looking for anything that would pass as food. The little life had discovered the wonderful thing that is food; it had also discovered it was not alone in this strange world. Other cells had formed in this microscopic frontier, ranging from the tiny, 5-eyed Minnos to the huge black Chompers. The little cell had learned to fear the chomper and its meat-eating jaw. The jaw took away life. It wanted to keep its life, thank you.

********

The Prokaryoke was the great descendant of the ancient cell, the ancient life-giving cell, but it didn't care. The Prokaryoke only wanted to live. That meant two things: it needed to eat, and it needed to not get eaten. To accomplish these goals, it bore two spike-like growths on its rear, flanking the flagella in case of attack. It also had two filter mouths to double intake. These new additions, while the result of a billion-year bout of evolution, were proven useless when a cilia-laden Punky came after the little cell. Only a lucky flow field saved the Prokaryoke from the jaws of the pink-colored Punky, which had to satisfy its hunger else ware. The Prokaryoke swam a bit, and settled at a multi-cellular colony of algae to feed. The thing lived a long life (a whole 27 hours) before combining its genetic material with another of its kind to breed, in what was the first glimmer of sexual reproduction.

********

Time goes on, and planet Kell evolves. The Prokar, the genetic heirs to the Prokaryoke, rule the seas. Unlike their predecessors, their species is made up of multiple cells that are part of a whole organism. This generation boasted 3 flagella, 2 pairs of spikes, a membrane the color of caramel, and a new mouthpiece-the blood-sucking proboscis. Though many Prokar roamed the seas of Kell, one individual was in a unique situation. He got the dubious honor of being the first organism to ever suffer the pain inflicted by a Buzzy's electric sac. The Buzzy then proceeded to have its organs sucked out as the Prokaryoke nurtured itself back to health through a tasty meal.

********

Odd things happen to a planet if you give it enough time. Planet Kell was no longer the wasteland it once was. Algae had floated up to the surface, and started to branch off into forms of terrestrial plant life. And as for the Proca, the genetic epitome of the seas and descendant of the Prokar, something odd had happened as well.

One Prokar individual, while hunting a Junior, had been shocked by another cells electric sac, but rather than take damage, something happened. Chemicals deep in the little fish-like creature started reacting. Electric signals started up. And for the first time ever…

The Prokar had a _thought. _(What this thought was about is something that will never be known, unfortunately.)

No longer did the little fish act based on the coding deep within its primordial genes. It acted on its brain. The Prokar bred, and its children had the same anatomical feature. These offspring dominated, and soon the Prokar species started to tire of the ocean. They began to dive out of the water to eat land plants. Some individuals went farther than others. Eventually, the Prokar-so adept at exploiting the world beyond the waves-made a choice.

Whatever the reasons, a single Prokar managed to crawl from the sludge onto a grassy shore. It was still alive. That was a good thing, so the Prokar let out a mating call. Several other Prokar made their way to the coast. The mates of those individuals followed.

A new age had dawned. No longer would the great species that was the Prokar be confined to the primordial ooze. They had a new world waiting for them. And sure, it was a lot dryer, but at least there is food here. It must be a good place.

The Prokar have entered the creature stage.


	2. Chapter 2: Creature Stage

"_It is not the strongest of the species that survives, but the ones most respondent to change."-Charles Darwin_

He awoke to the gentle mating calls of some Monkeydoob in the trees above. His three bulbous, bright blue eyes slowly opened, revealing a vast plain beyond the nest.

The adolescent Looka surveyed the field. His pack had settled under a grove of trees, providing food and cover from the bright orange sun. He could see spores and leaves falling from the canopy, as well as the pair of Monkeydoob who had awakened him. Ahead was a sprawling field of grass peppered with white flowers and gentle slopes; off in the distance he could barely see a herd of migrating creatures. A large volcano loomed on the horizon, though the little Looka had no idea what it was. He was only concerned with getting through the day.

He stretched out his 4 legs, and regained sensation in his hoofs. The Looka ventured out into the hilly plain, mindful to take a pack member with him. He wanted food…that meant either spending several hours combing the plains for bushes with fruit, or a whole day of stalking the herd he had seen earlier.

Well, stalking is fun, and it means that you get to be the predator, not the watchful prey. He went off on his way, stopping to admire some piles of bones of creatures passed. They had cool parts on them. Some sure looked like he could use them. It's not like their original owners had any use for them now.

The Looka and his friend surveyed the group. It was a pack of Doofnits, weak little quadrupeds with the snouts of a pig and huge, blank eyes. They would make good food. The Looka slowly circled the pack, waiting until the weakest of them would show himself…then a Doofnit found the team of 2, and attempted to run off.

Big mistake, since the Looka's hoofs could easily outrun the toed feet of its prey, especially when sprinting.

The 2 Looka's charged at the animal at the same time, knocking it senseless for a few seconds. It regained composure only to stare into the space of the Looka's round, dagger-toothed mouth (yes, Spore fans, it is a Leeyotch mouthpiece). While the pack backup kept backing up and charging at the Doofnit, the young Looka kept delivering painful bites. It finally got a solid hold on the creature's skull; there was a loud crack, and the poor little creature slumped in the Looka's mouth. Both of the animals ate well that day.

********

Well this was a peachy situation.

A few hundred million years after the life of our Looka, there lived the descendant species: the Leka. One of these Leka had decided to start out the day by going through the fruit groves near its nest for a quick fix of food. But it wasn't settled for food, as it also noticed a large pile of bones in a nearby valley. It stopped to look at them.

These weren't large piles. They were huge. _Really _huge. They each seemed to be part of an animal that could have been 10 meters tall.

_**RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!**_

Well, it seemed that this animal was not a dead species. In fact, the species was the Blind Ozzie race, made up of six-legged carnivores without eyes. And an epic-sized individual had felt a pesky little Leka going through its species' bone yard. The Leka had tried to stay still, only to be sensed by the Ozzie's olfactory sensors.

And here it was. After picking through a few of the bone piles with its stubby arms, it was running for its little mammalian life with a mammoth Ozzie in tow.

Evolution had given the Leka species a better set of hoofs, which could outrun the suckers used as feet by the Ozzie. Eventually the Leka had managed to escape into a jungle, while the Ozzie decided to prey upon a flock of two-headed Bimingos. The Leka was exhausted and hungry…when was the last time it had eaten?

There was no food on the bushes. He tried to reach for the fruit in the trees, frenzied by hunger, but his hands could not reach them. This was bad. He couldn't sense his pack back at the nest. The Ozzie must have chased him very far.

The little Leka stumbled through the forest in a panic, eating any organic material that would fit through his trap-like mouth. Some of it ended up being vomited, further draining the Leka's strength.

He wandered out onto a coastal beach. This was it. There was no food. No others of his kind. This was it. Instinct could not save him this time…

**Wait!** A piece of fruit!

It bobbed in the water ahead. Driven by the will to live, the little Leka sprinted into the water, and then started to paddle. His hoofs and 3-fingered hands were not built for swimming, but they worked for now. So close…almost there…yes! He got it!

He devoured the sweet melon like a fish scooping up prey. It was so delicious, so nourishing…all that was left was to get back to the nest.

Unfortunately the Leka never made it back. All the labor that went into getting that piece of fruit had put him at the mercy of the ocean currents. While trying to find his way back, a fish found him. A very large fish. A very, very large fish, larger than the Ozzie with a mouth of teeth and flesh covered in green scales. He was eaten by this fish in the same manner he ate his precious fruit, and was given a quick death as the massive jaws clamped down.

********

What in the name of evolution had just happened? Where was everyone?

The last thing the Leke remembered was a bright ball of red in the sky, with a long scarlet tail, falling like a rock. Then there had been a big flash, followed by a bunch of balls of red falling from the sky.

Luckily he had found shelter, as had his mate, his offspring, and his pack member. They had to find others. If he had survived, then other Leke should have too. The group ventured off in search of life, hopefully friendly life.

They did find life, but it wasn't friendly. Not at first. The head Leke had calmed a group of primate Singtoo down after showing off the stylish plant-like growths on its back. The Leke could not sing, and its hooves could not dance to save the creature's life, but at least it was charming.

The group trekked on, coming across many species. Some were friendly, some were not. Fruit was eaten, as was the flesh of fallen prey. They must have trekked for many miles. Of course, they had no idea what a mile was, but it still took a very long time to move. Eventually, the Leke caught scent of its own.

After a joyous sprint, the small family had made it to a nest bordering a large lake, all of them alive (though the male helper to the Leke pack leader had lost an arm in a scuffle with some Chuchoko. He saved the baby's life). The Leke cuddled with its mate in the comfort of a bed of leaves and branches, protected by the pack mates going about their business. Life was good.

********

Planets aren't the only thing that changes over time. Give a species enough time and it will change quite a bit too.

What was once a small amphibian quadruped was now a teal-skinned, 4 legged (2 armed), omnivorous mammal, with eyestalks and horns. It walked upright; it ate food not with a tiny radial valve, but with a spiked deathtrap of a mouth; it could outrun anything with its four prime hooves; and, above all, it was smart. Quite smart. The species that was now the Leko had discovered the power of numbers and the power of tools.

It began when some special Leko discovered that food could be grabbed from trees with a stick. Rocks could smash nuts. Groups could achieve more than any individual creature. These discoveries were passed from individuals to the children, and to the children's children.

Finally, 4.6 billion years after planet Kell was given the gift of life, there was a single Leko prodding a pile of detritus in his nest with a stick. Suddenly, an idea hit him like a sledgehammer. Somewhere in his bestial brain was a memory of lightning striking a tree, and causing it to burn. He looked at the stick in his hand, and bashed it across the plant junk.

He could have sworn he saw a spark there somewhere.

The Leko mumbled to another of its kind, babbling incessantly as it furiously bashed the sticks and leaves. It happily threw its stick in the air, dumbfounded that it has done something that the natural world had pulled off. It was then struck in the face by said stick.

After a few hours, the Leko tried _rubbing_ sticks, and got more sparks…then smoke…then a roaring fire. He babbled the beginnings of language at his pack mates, how he had just done something incredible. He was the creator of fire. And in his primitive brain were the first lights of intelligence. A lot was to be done in the next few thousand years.

The Leko have entered the tribal stage.


	3. Chapter 3: Tribal Stage

"_All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits, and their entrances, and one man, in his time, plays many parts."-William Shakespeare _

Oh crap, he had slept in!

Locke had always been a loyal and hardworking guy, so his tardiness had surprised him. After spending the previous day harvesting some fruit in the Yellow Grove, he hadn't gotten as much sleep as he should have. He took a quick look around. Overhanging leather roof…pots of paint and clay…a few maracas. Oh yeah, he had fallen asleep in the maraca-making hut. He stepped outside into the village. The orange sun was just peeking out from the mountains in the distance, so it was still fairly early. His fellow Leko went about their daily business, harvesting food or working away in the huts. He only knew he was late because of the smell of smoke. The chief always started the day with a new campfire.

Chieftain Oglan surveyed his group. Jack was here, and Mog was here. Where was Locke? He surveyed the village.

"I'm here, sir!"

Locke jogged to his squad, axe in hand. He was part of the village guard, tasked with hunting meat, guarding babies, fending off invaders, you know, just normal stuff.

Oglan raised his eyestalks. "I can see that. Only a few minutes late. You're fine." He glanced at the rest of his village. Things had been running well lately. The fishermen came back home with sacks of fresh food, and the farmers were having a good year. All he needs now is a squad of competent soldiers.

"Men, I have some good news. Orange village, which is made up of our own kind, was impressed with my fireworks display. They are considering an alliance."

The 3 men were pleased. The Oranges had taken quite a bit of convincing to win over, but it was a good thing that the Leko work together as a species. Especially with those other guys building villages out there.

"Unfortunately, the Reds have been an enemy to Orange for generations. They figure that the proposed alliance is a joint aggressive movement. And, as such, they are now at war with us."

This erased any feelings of happiness Locke had. He didn't want war! He had his wife and kid to think about! Little Kutu was just starting to grow his horns! It would be horrible if Locke didn't live to see Kutu grow up. Worse, what if the Reds attacked first and it wasn't he who ended up being in danger…

********

_1 day before…_

Brad was bored out of his mind. He and his older brother Khan had been given lake fishing duty for a week now, and it was just getting old. It was boring just to sit there, waiting to spear fish after fish after fish. It was fun spearing a fish with a sharp spike the first few times, but now it's just work. He didn't know how Khan was so diligent.

"Khan, when are we going back? I'm feeling a bit hungry."

Khan, eyes fixated on the waters, replied, "As soon as we're allowed to. And we're allowed to when we get enough fish to feed the entire tribe for a day."

"There's enough food on our plates to feed us all for a year!"

Khan jabbed into the water and pulled out a snapping fish. "Sure, never mind raiders, or wild animals, or the occasional drought. Or the fact that food spoils. We have enough food." Brad just sighed and poised his spear above the water. He wanted to be a hornist, not a fisherman.

He put in a quick thrust and pulled out a silver fish thrashing for its life. He put it in his basket. "I'm done. The basket's full now. See ya at camp." Khan speared another fish. His basket was almost full too.

As Brad walked back to the village, something caught his eye, not in the water, but in the distance. He could have sworn he saw something in the trees across the lake. Something with red patterns and two legs. There was also a small light. He squinted. That wasn't a single light. He saw 2. Then he saw 2 more, all following the figure in red. They looked like tribesmen-they didn't have the gait of a wild animal. He shrugged it off and, basket on his shoulder went on his way.

********

_Present…_

Locke laid down his axe and sat near the village fire. Shaman Rura, the village doctor, was working on a tribesman at his hut on the far end of the town. About 4 tribesmen were out farming, 1 of 'em over by the beast pens harvesting eggs. He glanced at the main hut. It was large, with a cylindrical cabin and a door punctuated with a pair of antler trophies hanging overhead. The main hut was where most of the tribe's women were, if they weren't in a tool hut.

Mog rested near Locke. He was another of the village guard, along with Jack. They had spent most of the day hunting, and 7 baskets of prime meat had been the day's harvest. Jack had been bitten on one of his legs by a doltasaur, and was being treated at the medical hut.

Mog produced a marshmallow on a stick, and began to roast it over the fire. Locke stared off.

"Do you really think that the Reds would attack us over something like an alliance with someone else?" Locke questioned.

Mog shrugged. "Maybe. If they did, one of our gatherers would see them for sure. All we have to do is wait until the Chief says something."

He accidentally burned his marshmallow, and shook the flames off. Locke said, "I heard they have these things called torches. They're like a fire pit and a spear combined."

Mog ate his roast, avoiding the scorched parts. "Hmm," he said, "I don't know. That's doesn't sound good, but we have spears. We can just hit 'em from the Grove."

Locke just rested for a moment, not really listening to his teammates' confident words. He was staring up at the sky. The sun was setting, and the sky was going from teal to blue to black. Little dots of light punched through the black. He wondered what those dots were. The Shaman said they were the souls of the dead, and that a new dot appeared for every person passed. If only he could see for himself…

His wife stepped out of the main hut, his baby Kutu visible behind the leather that passed as a door. "Locke! The Chief wants needs you! He says something important came up!"

Locke retrieved his trusty axe and entered the hut. It was surprisingly roomy, even with most of the tribe's women preparing to go to sleep. Chief Oglan, sitting at his throne on the hut's east side, gestured for Locke.

He bowed to the Chief. The leader was a large man, wearing a skirt of leaves and plates of armor on his shoulders. Then again, all tribe members wore this, but the Chief looked majestic in it. He also had his staff, adorned with a skull that served as a weapon and a gathering tool all in one.

"Good to see you Locke. We have some trouble."

********

_The night before…_

Khan cursed under his breath as he attempted to make it back home. He had been attacked by another hostile doltasaur that had been wandering near the lake. His second left leg was bleeding, but he had wrapped some leaves around the wound to serve as a band-aid. At least he still had his basket of fish. And he had shown the doltasaur that a fishing spear can double as a hunting spear.

He limped along, retracing his path back to the village. At least Brad was okay. That was what mattered.

He stopped. Something rustled in a nearby bush. He was in the Green Grove, north of the Leko town, and it was hard to see in the foliage-laden darkness. Khan focused his ears, spear in hand.

Suddenly a warrior in armor burst out of the brush with an axe in hand, yelling a foreign battle cry. Khan made a jab at the enemy's leg with his 3-pronged weapon, narrowly dodging a swing from the axe. The warrior thrashed wildly as the spear dug into his thigh, chopping at plants and thin air, but missing Khan. He raised his spear for a killing blow, only to see 3 more of the enemy tribesmen rush out of the foliage ahead. _Screw this_, he thought. _A fishing spear can't take on 4 of these guys._ He made a break for it, adrenaline numbing the pain of his bad leg. He must have run for a mile before he made it back to the village.

Brad, who was resting over at the fishing hut, saw his brother. He dropped his spear. He heard yelling. "**Help! For God sakes, somebody help!**" 5 village tribesmen snapped to attention, including Brad, and ran out to help, only to run headlong into the 4-man team of enemy fighters. The fight lasted a couple of minutes, and ended with 2 hostiles dead. The others ran back into the wilderness. The Leko tribe, not questioning what had just happened, picked up Khan and hauled him back to Rura's hut for healing. As Khan wavered in and out of consciousness, searing pain in his legs, he remembered his attackers…they looked like crikiits, clad in body armor painted with red…

********

"And that's what happened," Said Oglan with a heavy tone of voice. "Khan was attacked while trying to gather fish. And the enemies were clad in the armor of the Reds.

Locke was stunned. He had heard nothing of this. A tribe member had nearly died while he had slept in the maraca hut. He had noticed some commotion in the village, but no one had bothered to explain anything to him. Then again, he had never asked.

"Why did you have us go on a food-gathering run today if we were just attacked?!" Locke exclaimed.

The Chieftain smiled. "The Oranges are easier to sway if we come bearing gifts. The war is on. We are going to join up with the Orange village and destroy the Reds. And guess what? You're going to be a musician for a day."

A day later, Oglan surveyed his team. He had rebuilt the tool huts so he could accommodate a band of 3 maraca shakers, 2 aerophonists, and 3 hornists (including Brad, who was enjoying the day). The village shaman stayed behind to care for the still-wounded Khan, while village guard Jack, who was healthy again, stayed behind to guard the village with his spear. The envoy marched to the Oranges.

The day was a good one. The previous day's harvest partially went towards a gift basket for the Oranges to eliminate any feelings of hostility. The gift was followed up by the band performing a jovial rendition of _In The End_ by Linkin Park (Ha!). The performance was well received, and Orange chieftain Jeb agreed to the Leko's terms of partnership.

********

_1 week later…_

Locke knew what was coming. Everyone in the village did, now. The Chieftain had replaced the musical huts with the latest advances in weaponry, mainly spears and axes. He also had some odd brown spheres in a bandolier around his shoulder, though he refused to talk about them.

Locke, spear in hand, entered the main hut. He found his wife watching over Kutu as the baby smashed a stick into the wall with avid interest. They stared at each other. Both of the adult Leko knew the danger that was ahead. He picked up his baby, cooed at it, gave it what could be considered a hug before bidding goodbye to his wife.

5 men had spears, 5 had axes, and 1 was shaman Rura with his healing staff. They were all gathered around the village totem pole, munching on the village food stores as the sun rose. Jack, Mog, and Locke sat with each other, all of them holding their faithful axes. They talked about many things, including what they thought would happen if one of them died. Locke didn't talk as much as the other two and he spent plenty of time looking at the sky. There were many clouds. It looked as though it might rain. Brad and brother Khan were both bearing spears, munching on some of the preserved fish they had caught over a week ago. Khan glanced at Brad. "I told you. Food goes awfully fast when an entire village needs it." Brad gave a weak smile. As pesky as Khan had been in his life, ever since he emerged from the egg, he was still a brother, a guardian, and a fellow tribesman. He was lucky to have known him.

The chief stood up. "**Soldiers! Listen up!**"

All involved snapped to attention. Oglan took a deep breath. "Since the dawn of creation we have been a hard working lot. We go through the day fighting wild beasts, or farming, or busily expanding our living quarters. This has been our way for time immemorial. And now there are is an entire society of others who threaten our way."

There was total silence in the group, all eyes fixed on Oglan. "We are living creatures. We came into this world to make the most of it. To support our brethren, and get support in return. To enjoy the liberty that is life, and all that comes with it. Know that, and know that any one man who may die today will have done so in the protection of another."

The group cheered. Empowered by Oglan, wielding weapons, and running on a full stomach, the miniature army moved out.

********

"_Victorious soldiers win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war, and then seek to win."-Sun Tzu_

Strategy had called for the Oranges to lure the Reds into combat. The Leko army, including Oglan's tribe and the Oranges, was waiting over some tree-covered hills. Total silence gripped ever person there, as the chief waited for something to come into view on the field ahead.

Suddenly, a small figure clad in orange armor came into view. He was sprinting out of Yellow Grove, a small forest bordering a large valley. The chief waited. Following the Leko soldier was a 12 man group of Reds, many of them bearing torches, some axes. A compliment of wild beasts was in tow…it seemed the Reds had the gift of beast mastery.

Oglan waited. The enemy was pulled in closer.

And closer.

And closer…

"_**NOW! GO FORTH AND FIGHT, LEKO! LEAVE NONE OF THEM ALIVE!"**_

The force of 23 Leko slammed into the red-clad crikiit wave, axes swinging and spears falling from the hills. The crikiits were taken by surprise, but fought furiously nonetheless. The battle went on for several minutes without any distinguishable result. Then, suddenly, a yell went out, and a Red soldier fell to the ground with a spear lodged in its carapace and an axe wound to its left leg. 1 enemy was down.

Then the enemy fought harder, releasing their beast packs. The Leko broke fighting formation and combat became one-on-one. Locke was swinging his axe like a madman, amazed at how long it took for a crikiit or a crikiit war doltasaur to be killed. Had he stopped to notice, we would feel the water splashing against his face-it was raining, and raining quite hard.

The Leko started to take casualties. 2 Oranges were set on fire by enemy torches, despite the rains, and ultimately burnt to death. A friendly axe man had taken a blow to the shoulder, though his armor helped lessen the impact.

Brad and Khan fought for their lives. Locke and his squad slashed wildly. Oglan revealed that the spheres he was carrying were weapons-firebombs to be exact. Loud explosions rocked the field, and the Reds began retreating. The Leko charged and followed them.

Only to be repelled by an enemy barrage of spears.

The Leko found themselves under a rain of razor-sharp stone. 5 soldiers were struck; 15 able-bodied soldiers were left. Khan was one of them, and he attempted to return fire to the enemy by leaving cover and launching a spear, only to be struck in one of his legs. Brad stared in shock as his brother kept taking spear blows, all the while throwing his own, before he finally collapsed under the wounds of 10 spears.

Ultimately, every one of the Reds were killed when the attacking force split, dodged the spears, killed the enemy forces in a bloody rage of an attack, and set fire to the enemy village. All of the attackers were victorious, dancing in joy at their victory…save one. Brad just stared out onto the blood-soaked plain.

********

_50 years later_…

Locke rested in his axe hut. He was munching on a piece of fruit with the 2 people, Jack and Mog, which he had served with his entire life. They were all retired now, of course. One of his kind would likely only live 70 years with his lifestyle, but he was 80. The village was far larger then he knew it to once be. Far more people. Populations grow fast, apparently. He was pondering over something, deep in thought, taking a bit out of the orange melon in hand.

Chieftain Oglan II surveyed his land from atop a large hill. This place was his now. No enemies. Just the twin villages of the Leko. And as soon as his best subject was finished with his work, things would get even better around here.

Brad was fishing with his son, Ragnak. Ragnak was tired, but his harvest basket was only halfway full. "I'm feeling hungry. Isn't this good enough for the day?" Brad smiled, still keeping his eyes focused on the waters of the lake. "We will go back when we're allowed to. And we're allowed to when we have enough food for the entire village, not just ourselves." He jabbed the spear into the water, pulling out a furiously snapping fish.

Locke was sitting under the night sky, smashing a round piece of rock with some flint. His son, Kutu, groggily walked out from his hut with a horn in hand. He was a member of the tribal music band. "Father, why are you still awake?"

Locke kept chiseling away. "I have a project from the chief. He's offering me a bonus of eggs and some fruit if I can finish it before the next few days." Kutu took a glance at his father before stumbling back to bed, giving a "good night". Locke, hands beaten and aged, put his creation on his side. He took a stick and jammed it in the invention, and rolled it over the village pavement. He had created a wheel and axle. Only the imagination could confine how many ways this thing could be used.

Locke put the creation on its side, and lay back on the stone, staring up. So many bright little dots. He also saw the grey disk that rose out from the horizon every night. What were those dots? Were they really the spirits of the dead? Was he looking out at all those he had ever lost? The space was so big…he wondered how he could possibly fit in something as grand a scope as this. Locke's mind wandered, and he fell asleep under the cover of the great expanse of space that was the night sky.

The Leko have entered the civilization stage.


	4. Chapter 4: Civilization Stage

"_Banking establishments are more dangerous than standing armies."-Thomas Jefferson_

"Goo-ooo-ood, MORNING, fine city of Quellburg!"

Mark opened his eyes, staring at the white ceiling. The alarm clock did its job, but it certainly wasn't the best way to wake up. He stumbled out of bed and pulled on a business suit. His memory came back to him-it was a big day today.

His wife Maria awoke as he prepared for the day ahead. "Morning, honey." Mark gave her a quick smile. He loved her so much, though the constant work of the business world had made him extremely busy. If only he had a bit more time on his hands, certainly enough time to say hello to his own wife.

As the radio kept babbling on, spouting information regarding the newest movies or updates on urban development, he poured a bowl of doltasaur-O's, biding his time until the financial news came on. Maria turned on the TV.

Quellburg certainly _was_ a fine city, and he was happy to be a citizen of it. It was the capital of the Blue Nation, and an important center of global trade and financing. Everyone seemed happy and productive, as did the ruling government. In fact, only recently did the president set up a trading deal between Blue Nation and Green Nation, and Green was already hooked on Blue trading spice.

"In financing, trade in spice is up 30%. Green Nation has recently offered up a merger opportunity with the Blues. A new factory was built in Augustrad military base, supplying a business opportunity for selling spice to Blue weapons contractors…"

Wow, trade works fast. Mark knew that the overseas shipping boats were good at trading, but didn't know that the Greens were already setting up a merger. Nonetheless, he had a meeting to go to. He was going to convince CEOs from Red Nation that a merger would be beneficial to all involved. There's nothing like the sweet smell of money. He bid his wife goodbye and stepped out the door, suitcase in hand.

********

"_You can get more of what you want with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word."-Al Capone_

March, march, march, march, march. Do push-ups. March, march, march, march, march. Fire test guns. March, march, march…God, was there anything else to a soldiers life? Corporal Miller had joined the Blue Nation military at age 22, to follow in his father's footsteps, and he hated it here. He at least wanted the chance to blow something up. Maybe he could be a driver for a landrider.

Ah, landriders…they were beautiful things. Weapons of war, driven by teams of 3. Armed with a double howitzer cannon and a 360 degree rotating machine gun. Driven on treads, and heavily armored. The pride of the Blue land fleet.

Miller and his friend Zach had both signed up for the ground corp., and were subsequently relocated to Augustrad military base. It was a large city, with many housing blocks. Not the best place to unwind by any means, but it was safe and productive. Miller and Zach stepped out of their barracks to go on their training drills, and on the way they took in the sights. Nothing unusual was seen, just some anti-war demonstrators in the pavilion, some landriders being repaired and refueled, and some civilians going about their day.

"Do you think we'll get to do anything even remotely interesting anytime soon?" Wondered Miller. Zach shook his head. He questioned his friend's eagerness to fight. Miller had always been the troublemaker of the two. Zach joined the army to protect his kind, not destroy the others, and he had joined in example of his father, not on orders from him. "Define interesting. If you mean go to war, well then, I don't really know. I'm hoping the whole deal thing with Red Nation goes by well." Miller chuckled. The two began their day and snapped to attention as the drill sergeant started up the obstacle course.

********

"_Meditation brings wisdom; lack of meditation brings ignorance. Know well what brings you forward, and what holds you back."-The Buddha_

"And to thee Lord my God, I do pray for life, liberty, and happiness. Amen." Luke was a missionary working at Green Nation's main city of Wrightsville. He had joined the church at age 15, when he saw a church-sponsored fundraiser for burn victims during the Napalm War (there is now no such thing as a Pink Nation because of it). The world was such a corrupt place. Red Nation was interested only in conquest-they've shut themselves out from the outside world for years. The Blues seem nice, but they only care about your money. He knew it. They would entice you with the riches of an entire nation, and then buy you out.

"Thou shalt not disfigure the soul." Luke murmured. The supreme commandment. (_Dune _reference)

He looked around. The church was a beautiful place. The stained glass, the stone columns, and the monolithic size of the chamber itself, all of it showed the beauty that was God and His Kingdom perfectly.

There were still problems with the world, though. Even his own kind, the leaders of Green, was starting to succumb to the riches offered by Blue. A trade route had been up for years…there were even rumors of an eco-political merger. Ethics are an odd thing. The Leko species seemed to be engineered to disobey their own morals if it meant personal advancement. How peculiar. Well, he would not yield. His town of Wrightsville was a happy oasis of peace. Well balanced between production, happiness, commerce, population, and defense. There was no food for the soul that worked for him quite like that of the church did.

Everything was part of the Grand Design. Give something enough time, and it will work itself out. He would still put in his greatest personal effort, though.

********

Well, the winds of change were in the air. Just before embarking on his trip, Mark had received word from corporate HQ that Red Nation has cut off contact with Blue Nation. The job of the day changed, and he now found himself as the Blue's spokesperson for the merger deal with the Green Nation. Mark sipped his coffee, mentally repeating the presentation over and over again in his head. The business jet would arrive in Wrightsville in moments. He was going to ensure everything went down as intended.

Of course, Wrightsville was a religious city, so this wouldn't necessarily be an easy sell. Piety and all that.

A few hours later, Mark entered the negotiating room in Wrightsville's city hall. It was like stepping inside a cathedral, complete with green stained glass windows and a large throne-like seat for the city's mayor. The mayor smiled at Mark. "Ah, we received word you would come. Take a seat."

Mark, hiding any feeling of nervousness he may have had, sat down in his prearranged chair. The mayor made the first move.

"So, we have meditated on it for hours but we cannot decide if you are friend or foe. Although we have enjoyed the trading relationship we have had for the past few years. What is your purpose for coming here?"

Mark gave a gentle, reassuring smile. "Well, we're glad you've enjoyed our products. We've also enjoyed that which you have given us, particularly your medical services. That's why we're asking for a chance to move a step further."

The religious man raised his left eyestalk. "Explain."

Mark opened his suitcase. In it was 16,000 sporebucks. Cash.

"We would like to propose an eco-political merger. If you accept, we will gain political control over the city of Wrightsville. In turn, your church shall receive 16,000 sporebucks in funding. Money that is gained via spice produced by the city will go towards charitable services."

The mayor seemed to be considering the offer. Mark loved this part, watching his clients think over their purchase. Everything could be sold for sporebucks and spice.

Ah, spice. It's an odd thing. Vehicles run on it. It's used in weapons and chemical research. It's even eaten with food, like salt. It's the sum of all want and need, contained in a fine red powder that seeps up from the planet's crust.

There was a short pause. And then the leader nodded. "Such a purchase will help spread our faith. We accept." Mark was ecstatic. He had bought out an entire city. All that was left was to go back to Quellburg and give the president the good news. If he was lucky he would even be allowed to hold some control over it. He imagined a research complex of his own design in Wrightsville…he had always wanted to be a scientist. But scientists don't get good pay, so he entered the world of business and sold the things that scientists invented. Like new vehicles and spice harvesting platforms.

He shook the mayors' hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Mark retraced his steps back to the airport, and hopped back on his business jet. He sat back in his chair and turned on the radio. It was his favorite station. He smiled. Life was good.

Suddenly, there was static and a long, droning beep. Mark became confused. Had the radio malfunctioned or something? This was a top of the line jet, and it shouldn't have, of all things, a defective radio.

"_We interrupt this broadcast for an emergency report…_"

********

Miller and Zach were resting in the barracks, their oversized rifles slung over their shoulders. Miller was chewing a bit of culinary spice. Zach was biting into an army-issued protein-packed doltasaur-bar. The two were having a civilized, proper discussion regarding TV actors.

"Dammit, man, "_Zoe and Friends_" is the best thing that ever came from those guys at Quellburg." Miller said.

Zach looked like he disagreed. "Meh. Zoe is hot in some shows, but it's not that good."

Miller smiled. "Remember the episode when Joe gets high off spice?"

Zach widened his eyes. "Oh God, I am so cheezed out right now!!"

The two laughed. Suddenly the emergency alarm went off. Both soldiers immediately got off their feet and readied their weapons. Their platoon leader burst through the door. "**SOLDIERS! **Command has detected unidentified land vehicles and bogeys moving through the Red Nation border! Get to the God-damn Landriders! You're driving, Miller! Let's go!

The soldiers sprinted to the garage. As combat troops, they didn't think when they were given orders, they only acted. And apparently, something big was coming over from the Reds that wanted to kill them all, which was reason enough to get into a landrider and get to combat ASAP.

Miller was the driver. Zach was the gunner for the main cannon. Private Greg was tasked with damage control and reloading. Miller turned on the combat screen, put on his order-relaying helmet, and put his foot on the gas. The thing suddenly lurched forward and sped out of the base, with 7 other landriders and a squadron of F-100 fighter planes in tow. After an hour of mobilization, explosions could be seen off in the distance, along with the faint shadows of enemy vehicles.

Miller grinned. Dreams do come true after all.

Zach frowned. Nightmares do come true after all.

********

_3 weeks after the alert…_

Luke was distraught. The world was falling apart at the seams. Not only was his beloved city under the mercy of corporate leaders, but there was conflict in the world again. Military conflict, the kind where lives were lost over earthly petty matters. He shook his head. They're all pathetic. All the people who run this planet who think that nothing matters more than getting ahead of the guy next to you.

He stepped outside the church building to go back home. It was night, but the city was still active. It had maintained its role as a religious city, but there were entertainment buildings studded with neon lights everywhere…cars cluttered the roads…he looked into the sky, and the light of the city blotted out the starlight. He saw blackness.

Luke walked a bit, stopping near a fountain. There was a group of protesters who were angry at working in the new factories that the leadership had installed. They were all bearing signage, and rallying around a single figure with a megaphone, spouting angry rhetoric. This shamed him more than anything. It was one thing for the people of Augustrad and Quellburg to be participating in the conflict of the world. But for his own people, the _followers of God_ to be corruptors…the thought blew his mind. He walked the rest of his way back home.

Back at his room in the remodeled monastery, Luke sat back in a reclining chair, stretching his legs. He looked at his right hand. It was covered in a hard shell, with 4 fingers and a thumb, all pointed. God had put such careful planning in making his kind. Why did He make them so psychologically complex? So self destructive?

Luke had a quick dinner, and then fell asleep unable to look at the stars in the sky.

********

Mark couldn't fall asleep. He had been pursued by too many thoughts.

"_Are they going to get to Quellburg?"_

"_What are we going to do if spice reserves keep shrinking?"_

"_I need a new marketing plan."_

"_Being rich is harder than I thought."_

Suddenly the phone rang. Maria groggily answered it, and gave it to Mark. Mark regained his composure. "Hello?"

"Mark, you will not be able to believe what has just happened. Some of your scientists over in Wrightsville discovered something." It was his research and development officer. He groaned.

"What is it, Jones? You know better to wake me up this late at night."

The officer stuttered. "Sir, some officers were working with a particle collider and, eh, something happened. Two electrons apparently smashed together and…eh…"

"And, eh, **what** Jones?"

"It _curved space_ sir. We broke the speed of light. We actually created a way to make matter travel faster than light." Mark got quiet. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? The scientific discovery that NAAL (National Agency for the Advancement of the Leko) had been looking for was just found in his own corporate lab?

He was hushed. Maria asked what happened. Jones was begging Mark to get to Wrightsville.

Mark yelled, "I'll be there soon, don't worry." He snapped the phone into its holder and began to get dressed. Maria sat up. "What are you doing? The sun's not up yet and you're still getting ready? Who was that who called?" Mark, upon getting his clothing on and a suitcase of provisions in order, kissed his wife (or what would pass as a kiss, considering the mouth his kind had) and ran for the door. "We found something. Something big."

It took a day before Mark made it to Wrightsville. He had been obsessed with finding a discovery like this for decades. If he wasn't obsessed, he wouldn't have rented a private particle collider and research complex.

Mark fell asleep again on the private jet. Had he looked out his window, at the right time, he would have seen a little light emerging from a distant city, with a trail of smoke behind it…

********

Shellshock. It sucked. It really sucked. But Corporal Miller was still alive, as was his friend Zach. His vision was blurred, and he heard nothing but a loud ringing sound. He was prone, with a large chunk of metal serving as an impromptu shield. Where was he?

Oh that's right. He's in combat. With bullets. And missles. And lots of death and destruction, maybe punctuated with a few bombs. He looked around. The landrider he had used for much of the campaign so far was on fire, broken, and missing most of its treads. A chunk of its armor had fallen in front of him. He looked above, and saw streaks of yellow. They looked like bullet marks.

"There you are!" Zach did a barrel roll out from his space in what's left of the landrider.

Both of them took out their guns and peeked over the shield. In front of them were 6 landriders blowing cannon fire at enemy "adult supervision" class tanks, as well as many groups of soldiers firing their rifles behind cover. Friendly F-100 attack jets fought enemy corsairs. The battle was in a large plain, with the scattered remnants of trees and a few large rocks. In the distance was the faintest glow of city lights. Wait a moment…he remembers now. They're in Red Nation territory. The campaign has successfully moved Blue troops to the borders of Gondon, a major population center in the Red Nation.

The 2 made a mad dash for their squad, which was pinned down in a trench, firing their weapons for cover fire. They made it and fell in line with the others. The commander yelled at them, "Miller! Zach! Thank God you're alive! We got incoming enemy troop movements from the north! Get ready and fire on sight!"

The two did as commanded and, sure enough, a huge wave of soldiers charged the Blue ranks in a few minutes. Miller fired his machine gun, loosely based on the "Spinfire" class gun used in some vehicles. Zach had a bolt-action rifle based off the "Paddleshot" turret. The battle went on for hours, and while some Blues were lost, Zach and Miller continued to spray the enemy ranks. Eventually the waves stopped, and the enemy pulled back.

The soldiers cautiously advanced forward, the city ahead growing clearer in sight. "Halt!" Said the commander. He spotted a couple of wounded enemy soldiers drop their weapons and put their hands up in surrender. "Get on the ground! Get on the ground now!" The leader shouted. The enemy soldiers cried out what seemed to be pleas of mercy in a foreign language. "Get on the freaking ground **now**, dammit!"

They appeared to comply. "Miller, Samson, tie them up!" He barked.

"Yes, sir!" Would end up being the last thing either private Samson or Corporal Miller ever said. For as they approached the surrendering soldiers, while Zach looked on (happy that at least some of the people he was fighting were smart enough to surrender), one of them exploded out from the ground with a live anti-tank grenade.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and leapt at Miller. No one could help him in time and, in seconds, the grenade exploded. Both of the enemies died instantly in a flash of red; Miller felt a horrific barrage of pain and fell to the ground. 2 of his legs had been blown off, and he couldn't feel his left arm. Then he couldn't feel anything at all. His field of view started to turn red, then began to warp, then started to fade away. The last thing he ever heard was his lifelong friend Zach yelling at him to get up, and to keep fighting…

Zach went into an infuriated stupor. He picked up his friend's machine gun, reloaded his own, and proceeded to kill 46 enemy soldiers in a mind-numbed frenzy. He ignored commands to stop firing, and kept carving a path into enemy territory. Even when he got shot in the hoof, that only made him angrier. They weren't content taking his friend's life. They wanted his _own, _too. He saw the rifle-armed Leko who had shot him, and promptly blew his eyestalk-adorned head off.

A missile fell from the sky and blew apart the enemy city's turrets. It was a friendly Mighty Bomb. The company advanced, with the city walls in sight. Zach was ready to play a part in history, as his nation's army advanced and an enemy corsair exploded in the sky. Suddenly, the troop commander stopped as orders from high command came in. He barked on his megaphone…

"**STOP! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PULL BACK! MOVE IT!"**

The army complied, and Zach, who's finally out of his blood-stupor, attempted to run but was knocked off his feet by a strike from an enemy corsair. He got up, but felt a shot of pain in one of his legs. Enemy sniper.

He got up yet again, spraying fire in the sniper's direction, but was then struck in the torso. This time he barely got up, far behind the company. Why were they even retreating? Why were they…?

He saw it. Good God, he saw it.

A tiny speck of light flew in from the horizon, a tail of smoke trailing behind. It was far away at first. But it seemed to get faster and faster, and it was heading for the enemy city. Zach thought it looked like a comet, but at this point he was hungry, exhausted, psychologically beaten, and bleeding from multiple bullet wounds, so he wasn't thinking clearly by any means. Some primal part of his brain knew something bad was going to happen, and he wouldn't escape.

The missile flew over his head. There was a short pause, followed by a blindingly bright light. Zach had looked away during the flash, and has he stared ahead, he didn't see a city. He saw a monolithic cloud, the shape an orange mushroom, looming over him. He dropped his rifles, feeling his muscles weaken, and a few thoughts passed through his head fast enough to register as thought: _we aren't a military civ. They are. The Reds nuked their own city to drive us out. I'm so sorry, dad…_

The shockwave advanced at the speed of light and blew everything to radioactive dust, scorching what was once the Leko named Zach with a force greater than any sun.

"_If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the Mighty One…I am become Death, the Shatterer of Worlds."-Robert Oppenheimer, quoting from The Bhagavad Gita. _

********

_20 years after nuclear detonation…_

Luke straightened his suit. He thought he looked good with a bow tie. He glanced over at Mark.

"You have everything planned, correct?"

Mark nodded. He was a bit nervous. He was used to business meetings. The kinds of meetings that involved speaking in front of a group of about 8 prominent people, over things like money. What he wasn't used to were speeches to national leaders.

He shook himself back into reality. He had done quite a bit over his life. Scientist to Businessman to Politician. Mark said, "I wrote a few negotiating aides and had some guys over at Augustrad correct it." Luke smiled to himself. He had read over Mark's points, and thought it was very well made.

Luke was right. Everything fixes itself in the end. Following the end of the Red War, and the first use of a nuclear missile, a weapon had finally been used that was so terrible, every leader on the planet unanimously agreed something had to be done. Even the Reds, considering the nuclear strike was ordered by a rogue general.

By then Luke had worked his way up as an archbishop for his church. He worked tirelessly to advocate global piece, and played a major role in subjugating the dangerous epic Blind Ozzies that roamed the planet. When Mark ran for president of the Blue Nation, he picked Luke to be a cabinet member.

The two of them entered a negotiation room. In it was the warlord of the damaged Red Nation and the grand leader to the Green Nation.

They all took a seat. "Well gentlemen," said Mark. "I do believe you all know about the topic to be discussed."

The Red nodded. The Green answered "Yes. Go on."

"There are only 2 cities left on this planet. One is owned by both of you. We own 90 percent of the territory on all of Kell." The others seemed mildly insulted, but stayed quiet. "We do not want any more aggressive action between anyone. Ever again. We as a species have a great level of control over our planet, but we're dividing up the power. So, me and my cabinet wish to give you a single question:" Mark took a deep breath. He was changing history, and he knew it.

"Would you agree to the formation of a planet wide governing body, under the coordinated control of all of us?"

There was a long pause. An air of tension hung over the leaders.

Slowly, the Red commander looked up at Mark and Luke. "We are a proud people. But it is obvious that we can donate our abilities to a greater cause." He momentarily paused. "We see the writing on the wall. It is agreed."

The Green leader nodded. "Let us join together, so the world can become one." The Red leader didn't like the religious rhetoric, but at least he was allowed to be in this meeting in the first place.

Luke smiled kindly. "Thank you, gentlemen. The terms of our arrangement will be discussed momentarily."

********

_30 years later…_

Luke and Mark surveyed the crowd. They were in Quellburg, addressing the amassed crowd from the city hall balcony.

Mark got a final kiss from his lifelong love, Maria, before speaking into the microphone. He cleared his voice. He was just entering the status of an elder at age 80, and his health wasn't what is once was, but he could still rank among one of the best speakers the Leko have ever seen.

The crowd fell surprisingly silent.

"4.8 billion years ago, the planet Kell first experienced life. About 1 billion years ago, life moved to land. A few million years ago, the earliest of our kind walked the planet. And now, billions of years into our evolution, we have reached an apex."

He drew his breath and licked his circular lips.

"We are a species that can look up into the sky and imagine a cosmos. We can better the species and the planet through our technology and our empathy. We can do more than any other creature, especially when working as a group. And this realization was made all the more profound and true with a discovery first made 50 years ago."

He knew that his entire homeworld was watching him. He had to give his best.

"I once was the CEO of a corporation based in this city. And 50 years ago, we were using a particle collider to perform some test collisions. Well, we got more than we expected. And now, with an extra 50 years of testing, I and my associates over at NAAL have produced this."

As if on cue, a large metal cylinder rose up from a metal launch pad in the protected city plaza.

"This is the pod holding our newly developed spacecraft, the MK-6 Explorer Shuttle. 5 noble souls have volunteered to operate it, to explore the reaches of our solar system, and even the expanses of the galaxy."

A cheer came up from the crowd.

Mark smiled with pride. Luke took over with the speech. "I and my associate Mark both offer you our greatest respects. Thank you, astronauts, for volunteering for this noble cause. Thank each and every one of the people here simply for living their lives, and advancing the cause of our race. Thank you, and God Bless...a new age has begun."

The shuttle launched, and in hours the astronauts orbited above the teal and pale green marble that was Kell. They paused to look out at the sea of stars ahead, before starting the hyperdrive and venturing off into parts unknown, leaving behind the ancient rock of Kell.

The Leko have entered the space stage.


	5. Chapter 5: Space Stage and Epilogue

"_The Earth is the cradle of the mind. But one cannot eternally live in a cradle."-unknown_

The deck rocked as a large explosion was heard in the far off regions of the ship.

Damage control officer Mac yelled out from his pit on the bridge. "Sir, our secondary fuel tank is gone!"

Mahan the Omnipotent gave him an angry glance before returning to his cockpit controls. "Well then switch to the tertiary ones! We're almost at the checkpoint anyway!"

Mission control over at Kell wasn't content with maintaining an empire in the middle of the Orion galactic spiral arm. Ever since the invention of the wormhole key, a device letting a ship enter wormholes through a protective bubble of warped space, the Leko empire has wanted to get to the center of the galaxy. Then again, _every _empire has wanted to get to the center of the galaxy. And all have failed, every single one.

Let us count the reasons why no intergalactic empire has ever made it to the galactic core. First, an intelligent species has to develop on its homeworld and create space flight, which is a mammoth task that very few species (relative to the stars in the galaxy) have ever pulled off. Then, this species has to become technologically advanced enough both to maintain its own empire and obtain the wormhole key. Then you have to go on an epic odyssey across the stars, and just when you think you're in the clear, yet more obstacles pop up. The black hole in the center of the galaxy has such force that its gravity will warp the strength of any hyperdrive; this makes travel more and more difficult the closer you get.

Oh, and then you have the Grox.

The Grox…just saying that name fills any knowledgeable galactic citizen with fear. They are a repto-mammalian species that, by all standards, are incredibly frail; the only way they ever became the top of the food chain on their homeworld is because of their incredible natural aptitude for machines and adaptation. Now, the Grox are a race of cyborgs, dependent on mass cloning and bionics to keep their population expanding. They are fierce, cruel, innately hostile, and the creators of technology that puts the entire sum of the rest of the galaxy's scientists to shame. Oxygen is toxic to them, so they deform all the planets they colonize, stripping them of life. The empire they rule owns planets in the thousands, every last one protected by a trained military garrison. And every last Grox individual, whatever the reason, is hell-bent on keeping everyone else away from the galactic core.

And ironically, the fact that a massive race of bloodthirsty cyborgs would go to the trouble of guarding the galactic core just makes the core all that more mysterious, and therefore appealing.

So despite the overwhelming danger, why would any right-minded person even try to get to the core? Maybe it's because that since black holes form small tunnels in intergalactic space, the supper massive black hole at the galactic core would form a tunnel that could not just warp space, but time, and it could be the gateway to a whole load of things. Maybe it's because that since the Grox are going to so much trouble to quarantine the core, there might be something in there of incredible power. And of course, to say that you made it to the black hole at all gives you more bragging rights than anyone else in the known universe.

And well, those reasons seemed good enough for the Leko empire. Following population growth and technological development since the first manned spacecraft departed from planet Kell tens of thousands of years ago, the governing council finally agreed to fund an expedition to galactic core a mere 60 years ago. Then-commodore Mahan was picked as the teams' leader, and a crew of 1005 was picked from the most experienced people in the empire. They were all given 60 years of training (medical science and genetics can extend a Leko's lifespan to 200 years) and packed onto a state-of-the-art "Star Rider" class spacecraft. And after packing 50 years worth of provisions onto the ship, as well as a few colony incredi-pacs for setting up refueling bases and some spice for trading with friendly empires on the way, the ship left port.

And here they were. Mahan had piloted his ship all the way to within 50 parsecs of the center of everything only to have 4 Grox warships on his tail. His ship was huge carrier, big enough to accommodate the crew, provisions, tools, systems, weapons bays, and everything else a modern ship would have. Only 800 of the crew was left, since 200 were left behind to set up forts on 2 conquered Grox worlds, while 5 of the crew had perished while taking those worlds. Not a single Leko had died until the expedition encountered the Grox, not even when they ran into an alliance of 3 Spode-crazed zealot empires in the Koornchat star cluster.

The Grox ships would keep firing at the Star Rider even as it was in hyperspace, meaning the crew had been fighting for their lives for nearly a full month. Mahan knew that only 50 parsecs of space stood between him what was apparently the meaning of everything

The mega-auto-turret gunners were furiously hyper-shooting lead at the pursuers. One of the Grox ships took several rounds to the cockpit, and it spiraled out of control into the walls of the hyperspace tunnel, obliterating into nonexistence. Mahan pulled his ship into the Korhal star system only to face yet another armada of Grox fresh from the airfields of their colony.

The tertiary fuel was online by this point, and Mahan ordered his ship to make another jump.

"Only 30 parsecs to go, men! Jump to the Welka star system, heading 003-337 degrees!"

"On it, sir!" Yelled engine master Kellion. He turned some knobs, pressed some buttons, and slammed his fist on the hyperspace activator.

The outside world blurred, and the Space Rider leapt into its sub-space bubble, hurtling toward the core. 3 Grox cruisers gave chase, blasting hyper-proton missiles (they have an odd affection for the things) and pulse blasts.

Suddenly there was another loud crash, and the lights on the ship momentarily flickered. Mac had a horrified look on his face. "Hull integrity compromised! Our starboard side took a direct hit!"

Mahan hit the mega-repair pack button. The ship unleashed a wad of pseudo-metallic gel from its cargo hold into the wounded hull, and it hardened into a new component of the ship. He sighed, thinking over his current condition with the lightning speed granted by his training.

_Whoever thought of repair packs was the greatest person who ever lived._

After an hour of interdimensional slugging, and after 2 of the Grox ships exited hyperspace to refuel and lick their wounds, Mahan and his crew reached the Welka system. It was a binary system, with two yellow stars orbiting each other in a graceful interstellar dance. There was a teal planet in orbit, certainly inhabited by the Grox, with an asteroid belt hugging its orbit.

Mahan stared at his sensors harder. _That's not an asteroid belt…that's a star dock! Grox military base!_

Suddenly innumerable ships broke from the planets orbit, bearing the signature black hull and streamlined design of a Grox warship. Mahan ordered hyperspace yet again, this time within range of the core. He was making a mad run for it. Plus, he had one repair pack left, so he couldn't stay and fight.

The final dash wasn't really a dash, unless mad dashes count as 5-hour slugfests between a single cruiser and dozens of heavily armed weapons of war. Mahan kept damage under extreme control, exhausting his reserves of minor repair packs. Suddenly the hyperspace tunnel broke off, and the ship reached the destination.

The same destination of countless civilizations throughout time immemorial.

The destination that would bring enlightenment, glory, and inconceivable greatness to his empire. Mahan and his crew had finally reached the galactic core.

And God, it was a beautiful thing.

Infinite cosmic matter was being drawn into the black hole's maw. The energy of a thousand suns being sucked into the great mass warped the field of view, and when Mahan stared directly at the thing, all he saw was a large white void. Every last person on the huge ship took a moment to stare at it in awe before resuming duty.

The craft initiated the wormhole key and began to dive into the portal. The Grox ships, which (as weapons of war) didn't have individual wormhole keys, kept chase. They were determined to keep these people away, even if it meant getting sucked into the infinite.

Mahan's shelled fingers tore at his armrests. "Steady! How much longer to target?"

Co-pilot Mensa glanced at his computer screen. "1 minute to impact!"

The enemy cruisers launched a punishing barrage of missiles, which swung around the black hole's field of gravity before attempting to hit the Star Rider. It started taking hits.

"30 seconds to impact!!"

Mahan activated the last mega-repair pack he had right as the ship was about to fall apart. The ships still kept chase.

"**15 seconds to impact!!**"

Suddenly things began to warp. Not just the core, and everything outside the ship, but everything inside began to warp too. Mahan's field of vision slid in and out of proportion.

"_**5 seconds to impact!!**_"

The Grox ships disappeared, sucked into the infinite gravity, their missiles pathetically struggling to launch before slamming back into the launchers. Things started to fade and flicker. Everyone's field of view distorted, and they felt themselves distort. The fabric of space and time was being damaged in the very space they were filling.

Mensa attempted to yell out that impact was imminent, but the sound never came, simply being torn to noise as the medium it traveled in warped and distorted.

A buzzing sound filled the air, starting out as a quiet whine, but rising to the point where everyone on board heard nothing but a loud droning roar.

All things suddenly disappeared. The buzzing stopped, and there was absolutely nothing but silence. Mahan could only hear his consciousness…had he died? Where was he?

…

What just happened?

********

Suddenly a huge boom filled Mahan's mind, and a brilliant display of color filled the void.

"_**Greetings, my friend! You have traveled very far, and overcome many obstacles."**_

This voice boomed in Mahan's awareness, coming from everywhere. The tunnel of light surrounded everything. He could see many colors, some of which were outside of his mortal range of vision-beautiful colors he had never seen before.

"_**Along the way you have encountered many of your diverse, far-flung siblings; precious few of them will make it this far."**_

Marhan struggled to get out a "Who are you?" but could attempt nothing. It's as though his entire existence was reduced to his mere psychological essence. Plus, he did not want to say anything. He felt like the voice was pushing down on him.

"_**Your heroic efforts have proven you deserving, worthy of advancement to the next level of your existence. The universe you inhabit is but one of many. Countless worlds, unseen but yet connected."**_

His mind took in each of the words as though each one had a thousand year's worth of formulation behind it. The voice was booming, omnipresent, laced with what seemed to be omniscient peacefulness. Was…was this the voice of God? The same figure that his kind had argued about throughout their existence? It certainly felt like it…'

"_**Your creative efforts have not gone unnoticed. Indeed they have spilled into these other, unseen worlds, just as your world has been enriched by them." **_

The voice enveloped Marhan. Somewhere in his mind was the question of where his crewmates were, or where exactly he was, or what was going on, but he didn't care. The voice was providing all he needed.

"_**It is now time for you to join us. Join us…mwa ha ha ha HA HA! No, just kidding. It's not scary. Indeed, the times ahead, they are good. Really, really good."**_

What parts of his brain were still working like they should have emitted a mental smirk. God has a sense of humor, apparently.

"_**Some of you may ask, who is this mysterious voice who knows so much, and possesses such great powers? I'm glad you asked…"**_

Suddenly Mahan found himself back in his seat at the bridge, surrounded by his systems operators. Little did he know that everyone on the ship had just gone through what he had, but he was too absorbed in the moment to contemplate it.

After a moment's pause, he mumbled to his star map keeper, "J-J…Jacob? Where the hell are we?" Jacob, hands shaking, stared at his screen. In it was a huge blank.

"Um…nowhere, sir…the navigation is offline."

All the other operators just sat in their chairs, quietly shaking or thinking over what just happened. Mahan looked outside the ship's window, and saw a yawning black void belted with a band of pink gas. What looked like shooting stars dotted the vastness.

Out of the void materialized a small spacecraft. It was shaped like a saucer, with 4 robotic manipulator arms and a large bullhorn on the top. Something came out of the bullhorn, and everyone on the ship heard it, despite the fact that the ship was on the outside and all comm. systems were down.

"**I'm Steve!" **Said the voice, in a slightly nasal pitch.

Mahan was totally confused. One moment he had been battling the Grox, the next moment achieving the grand goal of all advanced life, the next moment listening to the greatest, most spiritually fulfilling monologue ever heard, and now he was in the middle of nowhere with his loyal crew, listening to some weirdo talk on a bullhorn.

"Can…can you hear us?" Mahan inquired.

"**Yes, why wouldn't I be able to**?**"**

"It's just that, eh, you're in a vacuum." Mahan said. "Sound can't travel without a medium."

"**You're not even close to a place where the laws of physics apply. You're not even in a place with laws of **_**any **_**kind. Besides, you obviously heard **_**me**_**, so why bother to ask?"**

Everyone on the ship gave a slight expression of confusion. Mahan continued.

"Um, ok. Where are we if the laws of physics don't apply?"

"**The same place you'll all be in by a few googolplex years, give or take."**

Mahan sighed. "Well, who are you?"

"**Again, I'm Steve."**

"Well who's Steve?"

"**I am."**

"You have a name other then Steve, don't you?!"

"**Well, I have numerous names. To give you hint, have you ever heard of a guy called Spode? He's a close friend of mine. Anyway, you place too much emphasis on names, young prodigal. And you didn't come here to argue."**

Mahan glanced downward and continued to converse. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't anything he didn't want to get on the bad side of. Assuming it had a bad side.

"So…you mentioned something about us being ready to join you?"

"**Ah yes. I have watched you for quite some time. You have come a long way in 5 billion years."**

"Well, yes. We worked especially hard to get here, too."

"**I know. You were doing well until people died."**

Mahan was slightly alienated at this voice. It knew a lot about him. He wanted to say more.

"Would you mind if I asked you something?"

"**Not at all."**

"Well the reason people died was because of those accursed Grox. And I was wondering, is there any way we might…"

"**What do you mean 'accursed Grox'? What makes them so bad?"**

"What do _you _mean what makes them so bad?! They wipe out entire civilizations over nothing! They are the ones who killed our teammates! They declared war on me when I asked them what their philosophy was!"

"**Tell me something. Did I not go over how many there were of your siblings?"**

"Yeah…my diverse, far flung ones." Mahan recited.

"**Are the Grox not one of them? Was their kind once nothing more than a wretched single cell in a puddle of slime, as your kind was? Their path is nothing more than the response made to the environment that they lived in. Adaptation and survival is what life is all about."**

"Adaptation and survival are the concerns of animals!" Mahan bellowed.

"**So are you not an animal? Is survival not of your concern? Would it be perfectly fine if I blew your ship to pieces, and your consciousness drifted out to nonexistence? You tell me."**

Mahan paused. He had him there. It dawned on him that he _was _an animal. Albeit, he was an animal that walked upright, used speech, and could pilot a spaceship, but he was no different than the wild doltasaurs back at Kell. In fact, it was instinct more than anything-the instinct to expand and explore-that brought him to this meeting.

"**You are no different than any of the other googols of life forms in the expanse of space. Remember, your universe is only one of countless many. And the Grox are another one of the forms of life in these places. They were given a tough scenario, and they mastered it."**

"But even if the Grox did adapt, does that mean that what they do is not evil? Is the slaughter of billions not evil?"

"**You ask me what evil is. Are morality and malice existent at all? Let me back up a bit to that whole bit about animals…do you think that a blind ozzie thinks it's evil to eat a starving, lost animal? Or is that just instinct, and the right thing to do if the ozzie wants to live?"**

"Of course it doesn't think it's bad."

"**Ok. Now do you think that its evil for a person to be shot several times in the torso, then be annihilated in a nuclear detonation, for no apparent reason?"**

"Of course it is!"

"**Why?" **Steve bellowed. **"Because I used the moniker 'person'? Sentience is an odd thing. As soon as a prodigal figures out how to make fire, the rules change. Apparently. Sentient races tend to think that anything that goes against a sense of order is evil. It happens time after time after time again. Maybe it's because sentient races like to put the universe into categories, and anything that's 'evil' is not wanted."**

Mahan was deep in thought. Everything that this Steve said confounded him. It all seemed completely true, but much of it went against his common sense.

Then again, his common sense was just him making decisions based on risk, instinct, and emotion, proving Steve right. Right?

"**Good and evil are just words. It's the actions committed and the eye of the beholder that counts. Although, if you want to maximize your survival value, I have noticed that irrational greed and ignorance are two major factors in the spreading of your sentient 'evil'."**

Mahan was amazed with Steve. The voice had a slightly nerdy tone, but at the same time it was comforting, it was enveloping, and apparently it was omniscient.

"Well, thank you for that lesson. But I was sent here on a mission from high command back on Kell, so I was kind of hoping to find something here. Not to go against everything that you just said, but…"

"**Ah yes. The leadership. You prodigals are adept at organizing, I'll give you that. You don't always make the best decisions, however."**

Mahan raised his right eyestalk. "Um...what?"

"**What is the purpose of a government but a way to get out of doing work yourself? Let me give you a little history lesson. Back when your species was in the middle of the stone age, the little tribes of Leko didn't have your bureaucratic agencies, or your 'grand council', or anything like that. They were preoccupied with surviving the day. Every tribal society on the planet had a single autocratic ruler. A chieftain, who took both the liberty and the chore of decision-making from the rest of the tribe."**

There was a short pause, and Mahan kicked his chair, waiting for more words of wisdom.

"**You think that a government is good, but a government gone wrong doesn't take away your chores to society. It takes away your liberty as an individual. And sadly, government can go wrong very, very easily. If I remember correctly, there was this fellow named Oglan who started the beginnings of the republican system of government on your planet."**

"You certainly seem to know quite a bit…"

Mahan paused. It dawned on him that he could ask this figure anything.

"Eh…if you know so much…would you mind explaining how life began for us?"

"**Sure. A meteor with a chunk of carbon slammed into the crude wad of rock that was your planet and put in both the organic chemicals and the energetic jumpstart that was needed to create life. Natural chemistry led to the first replicating molecules, which became DNA, which became chromosomes. The rest is evolution and societal growth. The end."**

Everyone on the ship sat dumbfounded. The ship's captain had a confused look on his face. "That's it? No divine influence? Nothing planned? Nothing remotely special at all?"

"**You think that because you're sentient, and that sentience is rare, that something equally special and rare must have lead to your creation. Beware; everything does happen for a reason, but all too often are those reasons misread, guessed wrong, or taken out of context. Also, don't start thinking that your plane of existence is all there is, or that you're bigger then everything. If you trust your senses, you'll notice you're in an entirely different one right now, talking to someone who is part of something very, very big."**

"Senses can be fooled."

"**Well you've been attentively listening to me so far and you seem deep in conversation and thought. Hearing is a sense, right?"**

Mahan sat there, unable to muster a comeback. Everything this entity had said was true, and he knew it, but he still seemed to have a bit of internal doubt. Steve had proven to be an odd figure, but he knew much. Mahan wondered what Steve was doing here in the center of everything, but decided not to ask for fear of a rhetoric.

"So, without going into another moral lesson…what did you say about me joining you?"

"**Listen closely, young prodigal** (he's using that word quite a bit, isn't he?)**. You did not make it this far for nothing. For all that I've just said regarding how odd, self-destructive and neurotic life seems to be, know that I care for it. I care for every last living organism that has lived, is living, and ever will live. And there is a grand scheme of things, though despite your obvious technological and philosophical enlightenment, you're still not ready for it. There are still a few things you have to do."**

There was total silence on the ship. Everyone tuned their ears, following every word Steve said.

"**First, know that the Grox, while another of your existential siblings, play a unique role in existence. You must deal with them. You have a choice: you can ally with them, run away from them, or destroy them, so that no one who attempts the feat you have done will ever run into the Grox again."**

"Why? You just said how they are as deserving as any other life form in the universe."

"**I have my reasons. Second, I have decided to give you…the power. Yes, that's right, THE POWER. The power to create and spread life, intelligence and understanding throughout the cosmos! Use this power wisely, so that one day we may become as one! That is…I mean…in a metaphorical sense."**

As powerful as Steve seemed, he still had a mortal sense of humor. He could also apparently make grammatical errors. Mahan did not question Steve's awkward dialogue and merely asked a question. "You trust that I'll use this power right? What if I mess up, or make my people angry? And if I use it right, they'll be sure to demand more."

"'**When you do things right, people won't be sure that you've done anything at all'. I got that off a mortal TV show one night when I was bored. Keep it in mind."**

A tractor beam emitted from Steve's ship, and a new item appeared on the ship's cargo bay inventory screen.

"**This is the Staff of Life. Use it, and any planet will instantly become, as your ecologists call it, a 'T3' world. A perfect Eden."**

"Thank you, um, Steve."

"**No problem. Oh, one last thing. You see, my associates and I are nearly sold out on the last phase of a wonderful time-share opportunity on one of our larger stars-and a rare planet in its orbit."**

God participates in real estate? Mahan kept this mouth shut and listened carefully.

"**After conversing with you, I have made a choice. You can come to our meeting. If you are in the neighborhood, we'd love to have you over for a pancake breakfast and a short presentation. Just look for the third rock from Sol, in the Orion belt."**

"Sol? Where's that? I know where the Orion belt is, but it's not like the entirety of space is mapped. "

"**That's for me to know and for you to find out. You'll have to earn our pancakes. Oh, and if you can…bring a monolith and a charge from the staff I gave ya. It'll come in handy." **

"Will do."

"**Good. See you later, Mahan."**

Mahan started to see his field of vision warp, as did everyone else on the ship. "Wait! Before we leave…well, you seem to be all-knowing, as odd as it sounds and, well…what's the meaning of life?"

"**42."**

"What?"

"**Again, 42. You'll know why soon enough. Goodbye, Leko. It was a pleasure to have met you."**

Steve flew off, disappearing in the band of pink that surrounded the vast void. A vortex, much like a black hole, appeared on the horizon, and the crew on the Space Rider's bridge saw it.

Suddenly, the entire experience of going into the tunnel of brilliant colors was relived. Mahan saw things flash before his eyes; he saw a little cell swimming from a much larger cell. He saw a small hoofed creature running for its life, pursued by a huge blind ozzie. He saw one of his own kind chipping a spear into what looked like a wheel. There were images of cities, of past wars and advancements, of joy and sorrow. There was a single soldier, 2 rifles falling from his hands, enveloped in a nuclear blast; there was a small space shuttle in orbit above his homeworld; and there was an image of him, when he was a child, back home on Kell.

It all was a beautiful sight, the entire history of everything compressed into infinitely small time.

And somewhere along this mental recall, Mahan could have sworn that he saw llamas hidden in the patterns of light on the outside.

Mahan opened his eyes. The ship was in the vacuum of space. Outside the window was a patchwork of stars and nebulae, over a covering of black. The galactic core was nowhere in sight.

Everyone on the ship was dumbfounded and shocked. Mahan reached for the ship's intercom. "Attention…this is your captain speaking…I realize that what has just happened may be traumatic for some of you. Please go to the barracks to rest up. We shall be returning home. Mission accomplished." Mahan glanced at his engine master. "Kellion…activate the return trip. Please. I'm sure we all need a good night's rest."

********

**Epilogue**

Mahan looked over at the ship's terraforming and social controls. He had a monolith and several charges from the staff left. Outside the window, he could see the tunnel from hyperspace fading. They had arrived.

Ever since his encounter, Mahan had been eager to share the experience and bounty of the expedition with his people. The empire of the Leko was an enlightened society now. Gone were things like suffering…inequality…the pangs of ignorance…The Grox were even losing the war against the Leko, after a few dozen allies and a few anti-matter weapons were brought in.

But his kind still had one final goal to pull off.

As the Star Rider exited hyperspace, the solar system he had been looking for came into view. Mahan's aged eyes looked over the system. It had a yellow star, and according to the scanners, the star seemed to be almost halfway through its life and it was of average size. The system had 8 planets. 4 of them were gaseous, with many moons.

The craft orbited above the selected planet. Mahan gave a short nod to his terraforming agent, who pushed the button that released a charge from the Staff of Life.

The charge rocketed toward the selected planet, creating a huge shockwave. There were storm systems visible on the surface, and vegetation followed soon after, covering the planet in a sudden expanse of green.

Mahan then ordered a monolith to be dropped, and it was. The thing unpacked and loomed over the planet's surface on one of its plains on a smaller continent.

The job was done. At last it was done. Mahan was 199 years old, near death by all accounts of modern medicine, but he was the single most enlightened and experienced person in the known universe. Aside from his old friend Steve, of course.

Mahan lay back in his chair as the ship reentered hyperspace. An agent in the system control pits looked up at him. "Sir, if I may ask, what was the name of the planet we just terraformed? You gave us no information other than that the target needed a burst from the Staff."

Mahan gave an old, wizened smile, his horns chipped and his eyes sagging. "Well, the name is technically Terra, but that's from an extinct language used in our database. You could call the planet Earth." The ship jumped, heading back home. Mahan gave a deep sigh and fell asleep to the whir of his ship's engines, the expanse of space looming out his port window.

********

There once was a little single-celled organism. This organism lived in a puddle. This puddle contained water that was drank by a creature called a doltasaur. This doltasaur lived in a forest that was part of a large continent.

This continent was land on a planet called Kell. Kell orbited a star called Chen, which was one of billions of stars in its native galaxy, the Milky Way. The Milky Way was one of billions of galaxies. These galaxies came together to form a superstructure of many, many galaxies and dust clouds.

This mass was one of many universes, populating an ever-expanding omniverse. And somewhere, in the great vastness of this omniverse, there was Steve.

Steve gave a slow, satisfied chuckle, booming through the vast infinite.

"**When you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all."**

*******************

**So how was it? Please review, though remember that this was my first crack at a Spore fanfic. More stories are on the way.**


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